Collection
by Emmy-loo
Summary: A series of 100 unrelated drabbles, all exactly 100 words. Including all characters, eras and genres.
1. Crash

Crash

He watches in detachment as the empty car careens off the side of the cliff. It doesn't go quietly. Rocks rumble and dislodge themselves from the cliff's face, creating an avalanche of dirt and flame.

The explosion lights up the sky in a fireworks display. Standing one hundred feet up and fifty feet away, he feels the heat on his face and arms. For a moment, the December night is warm.

Without a second thought, he turns around and begins to walk away from the crash. Alex Rider is dead. But his new life is just beginning.


	2. Dim

I'm trying to write one of these a day. (Post one a day, really. I'm not going to complain if inspiration strikes twice in the same day.) Feel free to prod me if I'm not sticking to my word. :P

Each drabble will be exactly 100 words, by the way. It's harder than I thought it would be, but it's great for honing the good ol' brain muscles. :D

Since I forgot it in the first chapter:

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

Enjoy!

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* * *

**

He stumbles into the dank loo, ignoring the sudden assault on his senses. The smell of vomit and piss mixes uncomfortably. The nausea increases tenfold.

This can't be happening.

Ian, breathing heavily, staggers his way to the sink. He splashes water on his face and takes a look in the mirror. The lone working light bulb makes his face look pallid. The shadows cast by the dim light give him a ghostly glow.

It probably isn't the light's fault. It might be the poison.

He doesn't have time for this, he thinks suddenly; angrily. He has to survive—for Alex.


	3. Futile

Don't ask me why they're all in present tense so far, I have no idea...

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

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* * *

**

He knows that she is too good for him. Too beautiful, too smart, too..._good_. That does not stop him from wanting her.

After all, what is more attractive to a man than something he can never have?

He works up the courage to speak to her about it. He should have known better. She smiles at him in that kind way of hers and takes his hand. He knows at that moment that his efforts are in vain. Futile, pointless, misguided affection. His heart breaks into a million pieces.

"I'm sorry Ash," she says, pitying. "I'm in love with John."


	4. Erratic

Hey, I never promised they would all be good. :P

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

"I'm sorry, Mr Rider, but your erratic attendance has made it necessary to expel you..."

He heard little after that. He felt weightless, disconnected from the last thing that was keeping him normal. Without school, what was to keep MI6 from employing him fulltime? Mission after mission, until he died or went insane. At the moment, both options seemed frighteningly plausible.

"Mr Rider, are you listening to me?

"No," he smiled, standing up. "I've got an 'erratic' attendance record, don't I? Might as well keep it up."

He walked out of the stuffy room, leaving the headmaster gaping behind him.


	5. Loved

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

Helen smiled as she peered through the doorway. Her boys made such a cute picture. John had apparently fallen asleep as he was calming Alex down—his head was lolling to the side of the rocking chair, his mouth open and snoring.

Her baby, tiny thing that he was, was resting on John's shoulder. Her heart filled at the sight of it. She was tempted to run and grab the Polaroid, but she couldn't bring herself to take her eyes off of them. They were so sweet, her boys.

With a smile, she turned away. She had packing to do.


	6. Soft

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

Eagle knocked on Wolf's head, his eyes wide. "You going soft, Wolf-Man?"

With a scowl, Wolf pushed away his teammate's hand. "Shut it. Caring does not equal soft."

Fox looked up from his lap, where he was cleaning his issued rifle. "Never thought I'd see the day..." he mused, as if reminiscing.

Wolf cuffed him. "I said, shut it!"

Snake cut it. "Yeah—if Wolfy here wants to get paternal over some 14-year-old wannabe, it's _his_ business, not ours."

Wolf huffed. "Going soft," he scoffed, loudly. "You wish! Just wait and see exactly how much I 'care' about this kid!"


	7. Hold

Thinking about fun little contests every ten chapters or so...if you want the chance to win something (yes, a real prize, not virtual cookies, though those are delicious), then keep on the lookout. :P

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

He stepped out the door again, never looking back. A moment later, he was lost to the mouth of the black sedan idling on the street. Jack sighed, watching the car pull away and leaning her forehead against the glass of the front door. Her breath fogged the surface, making the street disappear.

_Good_, she thought. _It's not as if I need any reminders_.

He was gone again. She had thought that she had him tightly in her grip; but she was, as usual, wrong. Like the ever-elusive fish, Alex had slipped away from her. Why couldn't she hold on?


	8. Shackles

It's a good thing I write a few in advance...my schedule almost got messed up! :P

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

He regains consciousness quickly. His arms hurt, he notices, groggily. So he starts to stretch them—but they don't move. A rush of adrenaline floods his system, and his eyes fly open.

White. As he struggles to sit up, the colour overwhelms him. It's everywhere he looks—the ceiling, walls, sheets of the bed he's strapped to, and door...apart from the slight sliver of skin he sees, he registers no other colour.

It's disorienting. Almost more so than the shackles are. But that doesn't matter. With a deep breath, he calms himself down. He has bigger things to worry about.


	9. Broken

Blech, messed up my schedule. Sorry about that folks...to make up for it, I'll be posting another one today!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider**.

* * *

She watches him carefully, hoping that Alan can't see the anger hidden in her eyes. But then, he never does. Alex seems to notice though, as he stares past her soul. Though his bland expression doesn't change, something flickers in his eyes before they return to their original glassy brown.

She can't help the leap in her chest. She knows that Alex is broken—nearly beyond repair. She knows that it's her fault that he's this way. But it's her nature to be optimistic. And Alex has become a sort of child to her. She won't abandon him. She can't.


	10. Precious

By the way: like AHorz, I am ignoring the timeline for this one. :P

Contest time: If anyone can guess which one of the previous ten (including this one) was my favorite, you win a prize! Basically how it goes if you win: you get to tell me to write a oneshot. It can be anything you want to read, but are too lazy to write (or something else, lol) excepting slash and M romance (this means X-rated stuff, basically. I just can't write it.) and I'll write it! Fun, eh? If no one guesses the one that I liked, then you all just have to wait until chapter 20. :)

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

10 Precious

"My preeeecious!" Tom's impression of Gollum was really staggeringly bad, but Alex laughed nonetheless.

"I think that was the longest movie I've ever seen." Alex picked up another piece of popcorn. He tilted his head back and threw the popcorn up, catching it easily in his mouth.

Tom glanced at him enviously. "Yeah, it definitely wins longest." He picked up a kernel and tossed up, but it went behind him and nowhere near his mouth.

"You up for another movie tomorrow?" Tom was avoiding his parents—as usual.

"'Course I am...we can start watching James Bond!"

Alex could only groan.


	11. Odds and Ends

Ooh, you were all so close because, of course, I like them all. :) But, unfortunately, none of you guessed correctly on the first try. (Nyxie, you did come close, but it was your third guess!) So my favorite so far? Drum roll please... Futile! I know, lol, probably the angstiest of the bunch. Couldn't explain why, but I loved it. :) Which was your favorite? Did you vote for it? Let me know!

Emmy

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

Jack wasn't sure when the collection had started. It had been before she arrived. She remembered gradually growing aware of the tradition and smiling at the look on Alex's face whenever his uncle returned.

The collection was enormous by the time Ian died. Just little odds and ends—a plate from Buenos Aires, a peacock feather from Mumbai, a pair of chopsticks from Tokyo. Signs that, wherever he had been, he had thought of Alex.

She wasn't sure when Alex revived the tradition. This time, she didn't smile. Alex was not supposed to grow used to this world.


	12. Tea

Just realized that I'm a day behind schedule, so here's another one to make up for it.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

Alex can feel his body convulsing, but it doesn't hurt. Eyes half-open, half on another plane, he can see the man behind the controls. The bastard is drinking tea out of a china cup, watching the scene with practiced disinterest.

Another shock lights up his body, and for a second he forgets how to breathe. His heart is pounding and something smells like burning and the bastard is drinking tea. The loudspeakers crackle to life and he hears the same question, over and over. _Where is it, whereisit whereisit WHERE IS IT?!_

A gasping laugh escapes his throat. As _if_.


	13. Twisted

Shouldn't be hard to guess the character. ;)

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

He had never been able to shoot a child. Rothman had assigned it to him, once: the ten-year-old son of a wealthy and influential politician. At first, there was only a twinge of unpleasantness. But once he arrived, his sights set on the family at their private beach; he found himself unable to pull the trigger.

Before this incident, he hadn't seen himself as a person with any sense of justice. Now, he had to wonder how it had become so twisted. He could kill a grown man. He could kill a grown woman. But he couldn't shoot a child.


	14. Echo

I'm glad everyone is liking these--they're fun to write, which makes them easy. :)

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

_Ian fidgets on the cold bench, sitting on his fingers to keep them warm. Squinting, he tries to find John's uniform—but they're all moving so fast it's hard to keep track. Suddenly he sees the football go in the goal—of course, it's John. He rolls his eyes at his brother's victory dance. He wants to go home._

Ian leans over the fence, entranced. On the field, Alex looks exactly like his father had at that age—but his footwork looks even better. His nephew scores a goal, and Ian feels a smile escape. It's good to be home.


	15. Soothe

I _do _have excuses, but you probably don't care what they are. I am really sorry, though. I'll do my best to get caught up, but I'm really busy this time of year. It sucks.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

John paced back and forth with Alex on his shoulder. Poor boy had an ear infection, and he made sure that everyone knew it.

"Shh, shh. It's okay, Al. You're okay."

Rubbing his back and walking with him helped. The sobs—so loud he thought they would wake Helen, though she slept like the dead—slowed to hiccups. Weary, John took a seat in the rocking chair next to his bassinet, rocking slowly back and forth. Alex fit perfectly onto his shoulder, but at the rate he was growing it wouldn't last long. John didn't notice when he fell asleep.


	16. Fight

I am completely aware that it has been forever since I updated this...but I want to finish all 100 prompts. If I don't do one a day from here on out, feel free to assail me over the internet!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

The doorbell rang in the middle of the night, and Jack felt her heart jump into her throat. She was out of bed and down the stairs in a flash.

Not Alex. A desperate sob rose in her throat as she anticipated the bad news. It wouldn't be a policeman this time, but a nondescript agent-man with a black suit and a blank face.

Her hand trembled over the doorknob. She took a deep breath, and swung the door open.

It was Tom. She almost collapsed, but instead grabbed the door.

"Can I come in? My parents are fighting again."


	17. Naked

Here's a little imaginary eye candy for you all :D.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

Alex woke suddenly, at once completely aware. He frowned, looking down at his body. Something didn't feel quite right.

Oh. He was naked.

Well, that would make escaping sufficiently more difficult. He suspected they had taken his clothes because they wanted to be careful about gadgets—and it was lucky for them that they had. Smithers had hidden explosive buttons on his pants and shirt.

He stood. His limbs were stiff, but movable. Alex supposed that he could wrap the sheets around his body to provide a modicum of coverage, but he paused, grinning.

Maybe being naked would distract them.


	18. Push

Happy New Year, everyone! Hope your holidays have been grand and lazy :) (Also: I thought I published this yesterday, but apparently it never went up. Odd. I'll be putting the next one up soon!)

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

"C'mon Harris, push me back!" The taunt carried across the grounds and found Alex's ears. He frowned. Tom Harris wasn't his favourite person—he was just as good, if not better, than Alex at football—but Alex hated bullies.

Derek Middler had tried the same stunt a few weeks ago with Alex. He smiled grimly at the memory. Middler hadn't known that he was facing a black belt, and wouldn't make the same mistake again anytime soon.

Making a decision, Alex put down his bag and walked toward them. If Middler thought he could bully Tom, he was sadly mistaken.


	19. Alive

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

His head shot through the water, and he gasped air in desperately. His tortured lungs filled. For a moment, Ian could do nothing but float and breath heavily, trying to bring oxygen back up to his brain.

He was lucky to be alive. He kicked toward shore, his jeans and jacket feeling like they weighed a hundred pounds. Thankfully, summer sunshine made the water warm. He didn't want to leave it for the windy night air.

But he scrabbled up the slippery and rocky river shore, reaching into his pocket. Vaguely, he wondered if floppy disks still worked when wet.


	20. New

It's contest time again! If anyone guesses my favorite chapter of the last ten (that's 11-20), then I'll write you a oneshot of your choice! (You have to give me a prompt :D). If more than one person guesses it...hmm, I guess I'll write you all oneshots! So good luck!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

"Something old," Helen whispered to herself as her mother gently set the veil from _her_ wedding on her head. She continued, "something new," as Lucy and Jenny, her two best friends and now her bridesmaids, zipped up her dress.

Lucy solemnly handed Helen a beautiful pearl hairpin, and Helen smiled at her, whispering, "something borrowed."

The "something blue" was Helen's sapphire class ring. She slipped it on last, smoothing down the front of her lacy dress and taking a deep breath. The chittering of the bridal party suddenly increased in pitch. It was time. She grinned. She was getting _married_.


	21. Born

Poop, none of you got it! It was Tea (hint for next time: I'm a sucker for torture/angst/anything that means bad news for Alex :P). Ah well! Better luck next time!

This drabble is for findingnemo, who requested more K Unit. :) If you have any characters you want to see more of, talk to me! I'll see what I can do.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

"You're a born sharpshooter, kid," their instructor said reluctantly. Wolf bristled automatically at his use of "kid," but stood straight at the compliment. Any praise at all was rare in Breacon Beacons.

Snake shot him a half-smile and Eagle grinned outright. Fox was too far away to see.

"Now," he said, handing him his weapon, "I want to see you do better than last time. If you don't, it's the assault course again. Twice."

Wolf almost let his face fall. He'd gotten a near perfect score—of the 30 shots, 28 had hit the target. 21 had been bull's-eyes.

_Shit._


	22. Murmur

I sort of like this one. I might expand it into a full-blown story later on :)

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

Sight smell touch taste hear. Alex took catalogue of his senses automatically as he awoke, opening his eyes to the light of a dim cell. It smelled of piss and earthen dirt. He brought his fingers to his throbbing right temple, which was bleeding sluggishly. He wiped at it with the back of his hand. It would probably get infected. He was covered in grime. He licked his lips. He even _tasted_ like filth.

"Well, sitting here's not going to do me any good," he murmured. He paused. His mouth had moved, but he'd heard nothing. He snapped. Nothing still.


	23. Devious

I've been at school all of two days and I'm ready to collapse. Ugh. Please enjoy :)

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

It was a simple trick, despite all appearances. Go in, shoot the man, and get out. It was the getting out that was the trouble, though, Yassen Gregorovitch thought from inside a janitor's closet.

His target was dead, but his exit hadn't gone quite according to the devious plan. A klaxon blared almost the very moment the old woman stopped breathing, as if alerting the facility that their leader was dead. Yassen frowned, but straightened calmly. He would still get away in plenty of time. He wasn't called the best for nothing.

Inside the closet, Yassen almost snorted. Wishful thinking.


	24. Isolation

I'm taking character requests, everyone. I will always write stories with Alex, Ian, Jack, John, Helen, Yassen, Tom and K Unit, but if you have a more minor character that you want to see something from, let me know! (A villain from a mission, perhaps, or someone like James Sprintz.) Anyway, enjoy :)

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

John lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He couldn't bring himself to move, let alone go and shower. Mud from the Thames was dried and crusting on his face, clothes and arms.

He had been so close to Helen. So close. But he couldn't see her. Scorpia knew that he was married, but they assumed—John _let_ them assume—that he was estranged from his wife. To visit her would be dangerous. For the both of them, but especially for her.

John sighed and flipped over. It was lonelier than he'd thought it would be, this spying gig.


	25. Starve

Enjoy :)

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

Ben Daniels was starving. His cell, a small 7-by-7 room, felt smaller all the time. The walls were a decaying brick, the floors a dusty and unpainted wood. Ben would know. He'd been in this godforsaken little room for almost a week.

There was no human contact. When they felt like it, they shoved food and water into a little cat flap too small for anything larger than his hand to slide though. The water came in a bowl. Like an animal.

Ben fell back, his head hitting the wall. It was beginning to look like he would never escape.


	26. Breakable

How excited is everyone for the weekend? I can't wait. I'm exhausted :D. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

The man—his name unimportant, his identity unsure—stood at the threshold to a locked bedroom, listening to a boy scream. He had an air of assurance about him, and seemed far from surprised by the incident. His posture was straight and unruffled. Actually, he was smiling.

The boy was being deliberately obstinate. His perseverance was admirable, though rather irritating. They had asked him—politely, at first, but now less so—where the guerilla group was hiding. The boy had not yet revealed the answer—or, indeed, any clues at all—but the man wasn't worried.

Because everyone was breakable.


	27. Winter

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

With a shrug, his jacket fell to the floor. Light snow dusted the thick coat, and now dripped onto the concrete floor. Yassen yanked off his shirt, ignoring how the chilly air gave him goosebumps. Hot, sticky blood coated his side.

His knees gave out, and he fell onto his cot. He pushed his shirt onto the wound and hissed.

He knew better than to anger Andrei. The man had an infamous temper. _Still_, Yassen thought viciously, _shouldn't the man know better than to knife one of his best men?_

Yassen made his decision. It was time to leave Russia.


	28. Ignore

A bit lighter than the past few prompts. I hope you still like it :)

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

"You can't ignore me forever, Alex." Her voice was cold. He stopped, feeling her come up behind him.

"If I do?" He pointedly looked everywhere but at her.

She laughed. "Everyone knows we belong together but you."

Alex's eyebrows raised. "That's _honestly_ what you're on about? You like me?"

She hesitated. Suddenly her cool confidence was shaken. She threw back her dark hair with a _hmph_! "We're the two best-looking people in school. How can you deny our love?"

This time, Alex laughed out loud. She looked shocked, and stormed away. It was a while before Alex could breathe again.


	29. Colour

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

Her hair is splayed over the couch cushion, its startling orangey-red clashing wonderfully with the deep blood red of the couch. She's clutching a white throw pillow tightly to her chest. A bowl of half empty popcorn sits on the table in front of her, and a glass of something honey-coloured. The DVD logo bounces around on the dark television.

Ian leans against the wall and grins. He's investigating what movie she watched—he thinks he sees a case on the coffee table—when she wakes up.

"Ian?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

"Go back to sleep, Jack," he says.


	30. Grace

It's contest time again! Try and guess my favorite of the prompts between 21-30. If you win, I write you a one-shot on the topic of your choice! If nothing else, I would love to hear which one was _your_ favorite.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

Her world shattered like crystal glass the moment she heard the news. It had always been a fragile place, her world; an image etched on a windowpane rather than set in stone. Every move she made—every decision, every step—brought the threat of a fissure in her carefully constructed universe. She was aware of the risk. She _courted_ the risk.

Her laughing sons, dead.

Her world in pieces on the floor, she did not fall to the ground or gasp, sobbing. She blinked just once, and took a deep breath. Tulip Jones, as always, took the news with grace.


	31. Belong

Two of you got it! _Broken_ was indeed my favorite. So, alex rider junkie and hollyblue2, you guys win your own oneshot! Either review or PM me with an idea for me to write about...it can be as specific as you like, and I would prefer it if you at least have a basic idea. Congratulations guys!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

Whispers followed him in the hallway, so-called furtive glances catching him every time he turned a corner. No one, however, spoke so much as a word to him. Teachers' eyes glanced over him.

He passed Tom once in the corridor. His former friend avoided his eyes and hurried away.

Alex Rider knew what it felt like to belong. It hadn't been long since he was just one member of the crowd, good at football but otherwise unexceptional. And now, he knew what it felt like to be absolutely and totally shunned. And he wouldn't have preferred it any other way.


	32. Choke

Enjoy...you have no idea how much I wish it was Friday right now.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

The attacker had the element of surprise, but Ian Rider never jumped. His hands clamped over the other man's throat, their struggle brief but vicious. As the guard's head lolled to the side, Ian leapt up, cracking his knuckles. He lugged the limp body into a closet, kicking its feet in behind it. He emerged into the hallway mere seconds later, and started running.

For a clandestine Israeli military operation, the place had god-awful security, he thought. He made it out the front door without running into a single other soul. The bright sun hit his eyes, and Ian smiled.


	33. Reach

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

Helen looked down into the crib with a smile, reaching her finger in and grinning even more when Alex grabbed it with his miniature hand. His hair was just beginning to grow in, blond like his father's. He had her eyes, though, just beginning to turn from grey to brown.

His hand was so small it almost didn't reach completely around her finger. Helen couldn't wipe the smile from her face, even as her more pessimistic side tried to remind her that John wasn't here—couldn't be here—to see his newborn son. She would let nothing ruin this moment.


	34. Difficult

Weekend, finally! I have midterms next week, though, so the next week or so is going to be far from relaxing...ew.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

Julia Rothman pulled her hairbrush through her damp, knotted black hair without an ounce of expression. She held the smooth wooden handle—embedded with tiny glowing pearls—and yanked the brush, first at the bottom, and then working her way up.

Her hair was being difficult, but Julia knew how to solve problems: methodically and brutally.

John Rider was becoming a problem, she thought. She took another pass at her still-dripping hair, pleased when the hairbrush travelled mostly smoothly. John was good—probably their best—but showed no enthusiasm for his job. To put it simply, the man was difficult.


	35. Heat

Hope everyone's having a good weekend! Please do enjoy :)

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

The sun in the Amazon beat down on their necks unrelentingly, forcing its way between the thick covering of leaves and vines so strongly that Cossack could feel his skin burning. It wasn't a pleasant sensation. The Russian had never felt such oppressive heat and humidity. It was almost as if the universe was closing in on him, condensing itself into a smaller space.

In moments like this, he almost missed his native Russia. Cool breezes, gently falling snowflakes; the emergence of flowers from ground that seemed deadened by winter. But then he laughed at himself. He had no regrets.


	36. Veneer

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

Alex felt his carefully constructed shell cracking. The days wore on with a monotony that was only interrupted by his missions. For a few days at a time, it was as if he were living life in colour, when the rest of his time was spent in black and white. His thinly painted veneer chipped more every day.

He pretended to hate what he had to do. But Alex couldn't help the fact that he felt the most alive on his missions. He couldn't help the fact that this job was sucking him into a world he would never escape.


	37. Fall

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

The agent watched the boy from afar with a sense of sick curiosity. He had a nephew about that age. Brian played footie, hung out with friends, went to see films, and had barely above average scores in school. At first, the idea of using a _child_ to play spy made the agent sick.

But that was before he saw how successful the boy was. He saw firsthand the incident with the balloon; heard rumours of stunts infinitely more impressive. The agent was no longer sickened. He was worried.

Because the higher you climbed, the farther there was to fall.


	38. Nightmare

Ugh, I'm sorry guys! I had midterms this past week...I couldn't be bothered wearing acceptable clothing, let alone writing :P. So, I'll start where I left off. (It's almost contest time again! Which is your favorite so far?)

I could've gone a different way with this one, but I'm glad I chose to do it this way. I like the way it turned out.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

They called him Nightmare. A simple name, but evocative at the same time. It required no explanation; it was indeed explanation in and of itself.

When Scorpia needed people killed, they often went to him. He had never been caught. Like a nightmare, he came in the night and disappeared with but a lingering trace. Like a nightmare, he stained the soul.

His specialty was poisons—exotic, simple, slow, fast. He could do it all. When his employers allowed it, he left a single _Papaver somniferum _on the bodies of his victims.

The opium poppy, symbolizing death and sleep intertwined.


	39. Contagious

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

* * *

The last thing that Alex Rider wanted was for his children to involve themselves in spying. The fact that they had been born at all was a minor miracle, given how many times their father had almost died.

Jake went to Oxford before he enlisted. This immediately raised Alex's sea of red flags. Sure enough, his son was soon SAS, and they knew less and less of his whereabouts.

Adam took a more direct route. He visited the Royal and General and demanded a job. The new heads granted it, of course. The Rider legacy was, by now, a legend.


End file.
